


Destiny- King's Wrath

by Paranormality



Category: Destiny (Video Game)
Genre: Continuation, DLC, Fan Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-05-13 05:42:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paranormality/pseuds/Paranormality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Taken King fell, life at the tower for the Guardians returned to its usual monotony. Medals were issued, speeches were given, and the Traveller blossomed with light. But peace was not to be. Months after Oryx escaped his demise, Guardians begin disappearing from patrols without a trace. The darkness is rising once again, and the whispers that were silenced with the Taken's destruction are beginning to stir again. As if to make matters worse, the Dreadnaught has disappeared from Saturn's rings. It all points to one impossible conclusion: Oryx has returned. And this time, the Guardians will be forced to face the greatest threat of all.<br/>Themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. o n e

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically a continuation of the Taken King DLC with original characters involved. I've changed canon as well, but it's mostly small things to make the story more cohesive such as the fact that Oryx wasn't killed by one Guardian, but a group called Fireteam Delta. This is mainly because everyone in the Tower seems to think that you killed Oryx, which would not work for the story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Oryx's banishment, Ikora has been driving herself mad searching for his whereabouts. In the midst of her studies, Eris decides to lend a hand - and a warning.

All storms are predicated on wings of warning. No great typhoon arrives without the stoic winds shifting to an insistent howl. No hurricane can brew without a lashing whip of lightning to announce itself, nor can a twister spin its way into existence without causing the hair to prick our scalps. Most signs are subtle: the creak of ancient floorboards in the dead of night or an out-of-place frigid gale on an otherwise placid midday. Others are more prominent, like the crackling of thunder against a greyed sky or the roaring of ocean waves as a hurricanes rushes into life on the horizon.

On one such day many years after you and I are gone, a storm looms just out of sight. But the omen of this storm is not a rumble of distant thunder nor the gentle squeaking of a spinning weathervane - it is a voice.

\---

Two figures stood in the limited light of the library, their faces shadowed and bodies silhouetted against the wavering blue light suspended in midair. Rows of books and maps lined every inch of the extensive room, small panels and paintings positioned every few feet or so. The spacing was overtly precise, each decoration or utility placed the same distance from the bookshelves on either side of it. This was, of course, to be expected in a place created solely for the benefit of the Warlocks. They prided themselves on their knowledge and precision, and this architectural feat was evidently no exception.

The first figure huffed, hunched over a large glass table littered with discarded books and bookmarked reports, scattered alongside pinned maps and various notes. A small, robotic creature hovered to her side, illuminating her workspace with his trademark blue light. The figure placed a hand to her head, exasperated, and pulled another book off of the already half-barren shelf.

"Have you found anything?" The second figure asked, stepping forward as a green light entered the area.

The first figure turned, startled, her face now visible in the combined illumination. Her skin was sleek and dark, head covered by a buzzcut and brown eyes lined with golden paint. "I had forgotten you were in here," She said, composing herself after the jarring surprise.

The second figure nodded knowingly, three eyes dimly glowing behind a series of bandages. "It is common for great scholars to become lost in their work," She said, voice heavy. "And often lose touch with the barrier between theory and truth."  
The first figure frowned ever so slightly, though she was used to this sort of speech. "I am merely attempting to locate the new location of the Taken."

"They have scattered like insects since their master has fallen," The second figure said, tightening her gloved grip on the orb-like object in her hands. She allowed it to hover a moment as she righted her shoulderplates, which were an armor of sorts that appeared to be two tusk-like formations arcing from her shoulder. She wore a hood to further shield her appearance, a black substance dancing down her pale cheeks like ebony ink through water.

"I am aware," Said the first figure, turning to the robot that had been flying around her shoulders the moment the lights went out. "Though their appearances are in groups, and thus they must be convening somewhere. It is only logical that-"

"You will not find them," The second figure said definitely. "They are seeking to revive their master, who is banished from this realm. If Oryx dies, the taken die as well. They live on- ask does he. Your efforts have little meaning, Ikora."  
The first figure, Ikora, pursed her lips. "One does not know if they first do not try, Eris." She said. "I will continue my research until I have produced something that will be of aid."

"An exhausted vanguard will be of little aid. Rest is crucial if you wish to be of any use to the Warlocks." Eris replied, expression rigid despite subtle attempts at friendliness hidden beneath the layers of her words.

"And an annoyed one can hurt you," Ikora warned, sarcasm oozing from her tone. "But... You might be right. We've reached a dead end."

"Not quite."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I make use of my time; I would not be down here if I did not have reason to."

Ikora eyes her, interest flaring in her expression. "And what exactly would that reason be?"

Eris took a few steps forward, Ikora's small machine shrinking back as if in caution. "The voices that were once condemned to silence as Oryx fell are beginning to whisper again, drawing strength as I fear he may be."

"Oryx has been dead for several months," Ikora said slowly, eyebrow raised.

"Not dead," Eris clarified. "Banished. Removed from our plane of existence. But as we both know, there are others that lay beyond our feeble grasp. Surely the Vex have allowed for such thoughts to cross your mind."

"Y-yes, of course. They aren't from this time."

"Then you know that this silence that we find ourselves in may not last as long as our hopes," Eris said grimly. "Just as soon as we have settled into peace, the powers of darkness choose to return."

"When we are at our weakest," Ikora mused, turning to look out across the city below, the Traveller hovering like a broken deity above the shattered remnants of the past. "The Traveller could be leeched of its light again."  
"We have no time for such concerns. The Traveller may have protected us once, but we must prepare for the day that it moves on. We must learn to exist with its absence." Eris insisted.

Ikora waved a hand dismissively, though her face was lined with worry as she avoided Eris's gaze. "That day will never come. We protect the Traveller, and it protects us. We are safe."

Eris chuckled. "Safety is never a guarantee. It is something we fight for the chance of possessing. Though it is true that continuing our alignment with the Traveller is beneficial to us both."

"Hm." Ikora continued to stare at the traveller, its looming form a beacon of hope solidifying her statements.

"Light is a fragile force," Eris muttered, matching Ikora's gaze. "It exists as a balance of darkness, as darkness exists as a balance of light. If the balance is tipped, then we can know one thing for certain: If we allow this to continue, then everything we have fought for could be lost."


	2. t w o

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyra and Kyra, Guardians with confusingly similar names, head to the Tower to grab a few easy patrols before heading out. Unbeknownst to them, Zalava has a slightly different quest in mind.

_"Your missions: protect the City. Look better than Warlocks. But don't look like you're trying."_

_____

 

"You honestly need to calm down."

"No! I will not just 'calm down' after that fiasco!"

"What was wrong with it?"

"The little 'level 20 strike' you told me was IN REALITY A LEVEL 34 PATROL IN WHICH YOU DROVE CIRCLES AROUND ME AS I GOT SHOT."

"Your point being?"

The silver-blue android gave a modulated sigh, frustration painted on her mechanical face. She was clad in a turquoise cloak adorned with mustard accents, various belts and metal attachments lining it. Her bright blue eyes, sunken into her metallic frame, glowed dimly in the cargo hold of the ship. Small sparks of what could have been electricity danced around her gloved hands. "What insane part of you thought that whatever that was would be a good idea?!"

Her calmer companion, a white-blue skinned humanoid alien with a gun slung across her back shrugged nonchalantly. "The little voice that says 'you need to get past rank 25.'" The alien seemed slightly taller, a hood pulled over her head and a sleek, black, jumpsuit-like armor coating majority of her body. Two arced, metal spikes jutted out from her shoulder pads, grenades and a pouch hanging from her belt. Her boots reached up to her knees, which were adorned with high-quality kneepads.

The android huffed, crossing her arms. "I am perfectly fine where I am. I will progress at my own rate, one that does not involve many consecutive deaths."

The Awoken sighed with playful agitation. "You are too high strung for you own good. C'mon, we're nearly at the Tower."

“Correction,” Chirruped a small, mechanical voice from the center console. “We  _ are _ at the Tower.” The voice was coming from a small levitating AI, composed of four triangular metal plates that surrounded a bright blue optic. This particular AI was fitted with a red shell, a large beam of light attaching it to the controls and allowing it to pilot the ship that the other two were seated in.

"Great. Thanks, Ghost." The alien grinned, glowing blue eyes flaring. "Ready to land?"

"I'll beam you down momentarily and get the ship to Holiday." Ghost confirmed, exciting hyperdrive.

The android and the alien readied themselves, standing upright as the ship pulled into position. In an instant, they evaporated in a flash of blue light, leaving Ghost alone to pilot the ship. Beyond the glass barrier of a windshield that separated him from the outside, a huge tower was visible just above the cloud layer. Elegant stone pathways snaked around a central hub, a tunnel leading downwards, and two wings off to the right and left. Several vendors were scattered about the area, conversing with the figures and exchanging goods. On the edge of the Tower, a metal fencing prevented any distracted passerby to carelessly fall off and into the shattered city hundreds of miles below (of course, this didn't stop several pesky daredevils from walking across it). Other spacecrafts hovered alongside various metal supports for a few moments before taking off once again, no doubt heading towards the docking station. This was the Tower, the last safe haven for the last hope for humanity: The Guardians.

The android and the alien appeared on one of the grassy patches of the Tower, giving Ghost a goodbye wave as he left to park the ship. The alien gave the android a playful shove, which the android didn't return.

"You are absolutely no fun." Laughed the alien, casually adjusting her hood. "Let's see... Wanna see if Xander has any bounties?"

The android sighed and defeatedly shrugged. "Fine. I think I completed one an hour or so ago- Oh, and we gotta talk to Banshee. I tested out one of his guns."

The alien nodded. "Right-o." The duo walked towards a large, holographic billboard positioned over the edge of a staircase leading downwards in the Vanguard Hall. Next to the billboard was a quaint little robot, standing proudly as it handed bounty cards to anyone who asked. Unlike the android, this robot appeared more frame-like in appearance, and machines of its type were accordingly titled "Frames." When it noticed them approaching, it swiveled its head towards them.

"Good morning Awoken," It said, nodding towards the alien. "And good morning Exo." It looked to the android.

"Mornin' Xander." Said the Awoken, grinning. "Anything new?"

"Yes, in fact!" It replied. "I have several new bounties that you may complete." It rapped the billboard with its long, jointed arm, where various tasks and their rewards were publicly posted.

"Fantastic," Said the Awoken, looking them over. "I'll take that Crucible one right there and the one below it too."

"Wonderful," Said Xander, handing her the corresponding cards. "And for you?"

"Anything not involving the Crucible," The exo replied. The Awoken pouted at her.

"Excellent. I have several that have yet to be completed." Xander gestured to the screen. She selected a few miscellaneous ones and Xander gave her the proper cards. With a quick wave goodbye, they est off for the gunsmith who had set up across the plaza.

"You really need to get out the Crucible more often," Said the Awoken insistently. "You'll never rank up if you don't."  
"You can't win jack in the Crucible unless you're at rank 40." She replied cooly.

"I'm doing fine and I'm only rank 36." She retorted. The Exo ignored her.

They approached the gunsmith, who was looking over a broken rifle that had a large portion of it torn off. He was an exo as well, colored dark blue with bright yellow accents and spike-like attachments on his head. His light blue eyes (or lights, depending on your view of exos) blinked once, inspecting the destroyed gun.

"How do they expect me to fix this." He muttered, picking it up and letting it fall as tiny sprockets and gears flew out of its exposed back half.

"Good morning Banshee." Said the Exo, approaching his station casually.

He glanced up, unamusement plain on his face. "Morning Cyra. What do you need?" He spoke in a deep, digital monotone, his Ghost nowhere in sight.

Before Cyra could respond, the Awoken cut in. "Why do you never remember my name?" She asked loudly, making a face. "I'm here just as often as her!"  
Banshee's expression didn't change.

"My name is literally the same as hers with one letter different." The Awoken told him bluntly.

"Then it's not 'literally the same.'" He replied.

She huffed. "Subtract a C, add a K. Kyra. Kai-ruh."

"I'll remember you next time. ...Maybe. Can I help you?" He blinked, somewhat enjoying the entertainment.

Kyra frowned. "No, I'm good."

Cyra stepped forward. "Here to test out a few guns for you."

"Right. It's Armsday. Explains why everyone's bothering me more than usual." Banshee pondered it for a moment before reaching under the counter and pulling out a scout rifle. "Here. It's what you usually use."

"You just hate me, don't you." Kyra muttered.

Banshee handed Cyra the rifle. "You're not wrong."

Cyra weighed the weapon in her hands as Kyra opened her mouth in protest. Before an argument could break out, she grabbed her Awoken friend by the arm and dragged her away. "Thanks Banshee!" She said quickly, to which he glumly nodded.

After a few gripes from Kyra, the duo entered the belowground corridor known as the Vanguard Hall. Off to the sides, the two Crucible bots, Shaxx and Arcite, stood with arms crossed. Arcite gave Kyra a nod, she saluted back, and they continued on into the main chamber. The main Vanguard chamber was sparsely decorated- one large, elongated table took up majority of the space inside the room, the other occupied by a round walkway that surrounded the outer edge of the chamber. A few real Frames- the ones with no personality- stood off to the side of the room, mopping up some blood from the floor. A Guardian probably emptied a boot inside again. The wall at the far end of the chamber was a curved, floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the mountains in the distance, painted blue by the early morning light.

Standing at the sides of the table were the three Guardian Vanguards- the leaders or superiors of all three classes of Guardian. Standing stiffly at the far end of the table was Commander Zavala, the uptight Titan Vanguard. Surrounded by a pile of books and files from the archives was ikora Rey, the hyperintelligent Warlock Vanguard. Finally, looking dejectedly over a map along with his Ghost, was the roguish Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6.

"Oi Cayde!" Kyra called, walking up to him.

Cayde grinned. "Hiya! How's my favorite Hunter today?"

"You say that to everyone you talk to," Kyra replied.

He shrugged with a chuckle. "I will not deny that. Anyway, what can I do for ya today?"

"Just got back from that patrol you sent me on." Kyra told him. "Cyra isn't happy about it."

The exo glared from across the table.

"I can see that," Remarked Cayde. "Find anything?"

Kyra tossed him a few weapon parts that she'd gathered from the Fallen and Vex she'd killed. "This should cover it."

Cayde caught them, the parts digitalizing into coded cards the moment he did. "Thank you kindly," He said, counting them. "This should cover the bet with Banshee."

"Bet?" Asked Kyra.

Cayde frowned. "Gambling habit. Long story. Not enough time to tell it. At any rate, not really your concern. In other news, Zavala's got something for you two to do if you're not too busy."

"We never really are," Kyra said, fiddling with her hand canon. "Whatcha got?"

"You'll have to ask him," Cayde told her. "I'm still in 'assignment time out' after I sent you onto the Dreadnaught without a transmat zone. Oh- and about that, since you're already going out there, can you pick up a few more parts for Eris's new ship? Keep it quiet, though."

"You got it." Cayde slipped her the assignment card, and they shared a nod.

"Later, Guardian!" He said, returning to charting the known lunar territory on his map.

At the other end of the table, Cyra was having a similar conversation with Ikora. "I'm just worried over this solitude," Ikora sighed. "It's not like the Fallen to engage complete radio silence."

"They might have just changed frequencies," Cyra reasoned. "If they learned that we were tapping their transmissions, they most likely found a new one."

Ikora thought it over. "You're probably right. Now, enough anxiety over nothing. May I help you?"

"I'm only here because Kyra is," Cyra said, gesturing to her. "Decided to strike up conversation to see if you needed anything."

"Not much is required as of right now," Ikora frowned. "If you could assist with the Taken cleanup on Venus, that would be exceedingly helpful."

"Will do," Said Cyra.

"Wonderful." Ikora quickly created an assignment card and handed it to Cyra, who digitalized it and sent it to her ship. "Thank you."  
"Not a problem," Cyra told her. "Happy to help. Bye!"

"Good luck, Guardian." Said Ikora absentmindedly, returning to her books.

The duo caught up with each other at the edge of the staircase. "We ready to head out?" Cyra asked Kyra, halting in front of her.

"Not just yet," The Hunter said. "Cayde said Zavala's got something for us to do."

"Hm." Cyra glanced to Zavala, who was talking to a frowning Titan with bruises all over her face. "He seems busy."

"Nah," Kyra shrugged, sheathing her knife and walking across the room. "No one's too busy to ask a favor."

"True," Muttered Cyra, tagging along behind her.

Kyra paused in front of Zavala, the red-clad Titan walking away once they approached. "Cayde said you needed something," She said to him, watching the Titan leave.

"Yes," He confirmed. "We are receiving odd signals coming from certain portions of Venus. They are similar to the ones recieved from Oryx's armies and thus we need Guardians in there to investigate to prevent possible disaster. You were on one of the fireteams that were stranded on the Dreadnaught, so you know what sort of signals it can send. Scan it, see what you can find, and get back here so Ikora can decrypt them."

"We're on it," Kyra said, unfazed by the potential severity of the situation. "We were going there anyway. We'll head there, shoot some Taken, get the signals, and come back."  
Zavala frowned, but didn't attempt to extrapolate and just handed her the card. "Farewell, Hunter."

Before Kyra could get ahead of herself, Cyra grabbed her arm and dragged her aside. "Listen," She said before she could protest. "Zavala and Ikora are worried about this. The Fallen have engaged radio silence. This could be serious!"  
"Or, the more likely possibility, you're being high strung like you always are." Kyra said, crossing her arms with a bored expression. "We're gonna be fine! It's an in-and-out trip. Ghost's got most of the work anyway."

Chimed in Kyra's Ghost from her communications earpiece.

Kyra ignored him. "So- To Venus?"

"To Venus." Sighed Cyra, folding her arms.

Kyra grinned. "Ghost?" She asked, tapping her comms.

Replied the mechanical voice of Ghost irritatedly.

"Take us out."

 

The two Guardians readied themselves, making sure that every gun, knife, and grenade was in its proper place. Kyra clutched her dagger tightly and electricity crackled around Cyra's fingers.

 

In another blue flash, they both dissipated into pixels once again, landing with a thud inside their ships with a direct course for Venus.


	3. t h r e e

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyra and Kyra head out to Venus to scan some signals, only to find some new allies along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two characters you meet at the end belong to my friend Jay, who helped me write this book. They're her OCs, and KyCy are mine.

_“How many fell on the road to the City? How few made the last leg of the journey with a Ghost over their shoulders?”_  
_\---_

None of the Guardians remember the time before the collapse. The glorious Golden Age when humanity thrived. When the Earth was still a stable planet. When humanity’s grasp extended throughout the solar system. When it wasn’t under siege from forces of darkness. When it didn’t need to cower under the protection of the Traveller. When the world was at peace. But, as the Guardians have come to know, wherever there is light, there must be Darkness as well.

No one knows what the Darkness truly is. Some speculate it to be a natural equilibrium that exists for the sole purpose of creating balance with the Traveller’s Light. Others posit that it is evil incarnate, or merely an invading armada of alien forces. Others still claim that the Darkness is in fact a byproduct of the Traveller, or a necessary endpoint for the universe. Past all the theories and speculation, though, one thing is known for certain: it is an ancient enemy of the Traveller, and it will stop at nothing to destroy the Guardians, what they stand for, and the planet and the people they have sworn to protect. No matter what the Darkness really is, they must fight it until the system is safe once again. 

That is the duty of the Guardian.

\---

The vast green landscape seemed to stretch on forever past the barriers of the cliffside, which then plummeted into an orange pool that extended onwards into the ominous fog that loomed on the horizon. Ruined buildings lined the traversable area, moss and vines weaving through the rotting stone and cracked windows that had been damaged with the many years of neglect. Ancient pathways and crumbled statues littered the ground, which had been overrun with the dense vegetation. Metallic frames of an alien substance glowed dimly in the muggy air, creatures popping and hissing in their warbling tones.

This was Venus.

With a thundering shockwave, two ships exited hyperspace and hovered over the cliffside. The grass below feverishly waved around in the torrential wind that the engines produced as both Cyra and Kyra materialized on the outcropping. The ships entered stealth mode and bolted off in search of a place to land and lay low in stealth mode until they were called again. Kyra landed with a thud, grinning widely as she pulled out her hand canon. She turned to Cyra, who had touched down with slightly less grace. Wobbling for a few seconds, she righted herself and stood silently on the grassy outcropping where the duo had appeared. Kyra suppressed a laugh as Cyra rolled her eyes from underneath her mask.

“When you’re done finding hilarity in my missteps, why don’t we get started on this all-important quest Zavala gave us?” Cyra muttered bitterly, to which Kyra nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” She replied, summoning her Sparrow and hopping onboard. Her eyes quickly darted around the HUD displayed inside of her helmet, waiting for the quest marker to appear on the partially transparent minimap.

<Zavala mentioned some radio messages being emitted from certain areas that greatly resemble the emissions from Oryx’s forces,> Ghost said into their comms. <He’s sent along coordinates to the most recent location that they’ve been picked up.>

“You gonna put it on the minimap?”

<Up and ready, Guardian. Let’s find ourselves some transmissions.>

A small white arrow suddenly appeared on the edge of the circular map, guiding them towards their destination. “You seeing this?” She asked Cyra via the comms.

“Yeah, it’s up on mine too.” She replied. “We ready?”

Kyra revved her engines, the sparrow spurring to life as it took off with a high-pitched whirr. Cyra let out a sigh, doing the same and hurrying after her. The duo continued onward, following the direction of the arrow across the Shattered Coast. A few Fallen peered from inside some of the crumbling buildings, but to the Guardians’ immense surprise, they didn’t fire on them. Usually the Fallen were a shoot-first-ask-questions-later sort, so this was of course an out of character trait for them. Kyra didn’t think much of it, assuming that they couldn’t be bothered with a couple Guardians who were most likely going to just continue driving anyway. Cyra, though, kept note of this odd interaction just in case. One could never truly be sure whether something was irrelevant or not until it became of aid, so she made sure to keep track of things lest they become crucial later on.

They rushed through Ishtar Cliffs without so much as hearing a gunshot, and barreled straight into the Waking Ruins. Several Vex were milling about, firing haphazardly at them as their sparrows passed by. They made a meagre attempt to follow them, but quickly returned to their original positions and stood stiffly at attention once more. Cyra also took note of this, quickly becoming more and more wary of what they were getting into.

“Are you seeing this?” Asked Cyra, tapping into the communications network between them.

“Seeing what?” Kyra replied, glancing back at her briefly.

“Exactly. None of the Vex are even trying to follow us, and they’re all standing strangely, like they’re guarding something.”

Kyra made a scoffing sound. “They’re probably not gonna bother us as long as we don’t engage them. You’re overthinking it.”

“No! If anything, you’re underthinking it. The Vex don’t just stand by just ‘cause we’re not gonna stick around.” Cyra frowned from under her helmet. “It’s never happened. It’s not like them.”

“Maybe they’re just scared of getting their butts kicked.”

“When have the Vex ever been _scared?_ ” Cyra persisted, growing impatient. She swerved to avoid a rock that was jutting out of the ground. “Something’s up and you know it.”  
Kyra huffed. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just get to the radio signal and get the information for Zavala, alright? One of the Vanguards will figure it out eventually.”

Good. Kyra was at least admitting to the existence of a problem. Well... This was progress, at least. Cyra settled for that and began driving a bit faster, growing quickly anxious to get this quest done.

By the time they arrived at Campus 9, where the readings had led them, Kyra’s Ghost was practically ecstatic. <I can detect the signal from here! It’s definitely close, and it’s quite similar to the ones emitted by Oryx’s forces. Do hurry up, though. These broadcasts don’t last forever, so we better catch it while it’s still transmitting.>

“Will do,” Kyra told him, reloading for about the thirtieth time. “Let’s get to the broadcast site and-”

A thunderous explosion echoed through the area, a brilliant white light illuminating the landscape. The duo shielded their eyes, blinking through their visors to try and see what was going on. By the time they regained their ability to see, part of them wished they hadn’t.

“Son of an Acolyte, what did they do?” Mumbled Kyra, narrowing her eyes.

“Are they...?!” Cyra exclaimed, gun-toting hand slackening to her side.

“Yep.”

“Why are-”

“Don’t know.”

“They’re... They’re summoning a Gate Lord?!”

“Yeah. These idiots are summoning a Gate Lord.”

To the astonishment of both the Awoken and her Mechanical partner, a different duo of Guardians had reached Campus 9 before them and had taken it upon themselves to activate the largest Gate in the vicinity, causing a Gate Lord to emerge from the vortex. Piece by piece, the colossal Vex monster began to assemble itself, arms and legs forming and attaching themselves to the enormous torso. At last, the creature stopped hovering in front of the gate and fell to the ground with a deafening roar. The two Guardians standing below it instantly scattered, diving for cover behind the cubelike rock structures that littered the area. Swarms of Vex immediately began to emerge from out of some of the smaller gates, putting the two other Guardians under massive fire.

Kyra groaned, rolled her eyes, and took off running, hand cannon loaded and eyes filled with a reluctant determination. “Where are you going?!” Cyra shouted after her.

“We can’t just leave ‘em there!” She replied, leaping over a rock formation and sliding down the grass-encrusted slope to the outcropping in the center of the campus where the Gate Lord was currently standing. “And plus, there’s nothing that gets me in a better mood than a good fight!”

“Are you insane?” Asked Cyra, running after her with a bitterly averse expression on her face.

“C’mon! Who doesn’t love a Gate Lord battle?” 

“I can name a few people!”

“Just keep up!”

The two entered the battleground, the Vex taking notice of them immediately. Kyra leapt into the fight instantly, rolling behind cover and beginning to fire at the Goblins that were slowly approaching them. Cyra followed behind her, taking on a group of Hobgoblins that had accumulated by the farthest gate. They slowly began to move closer to the center, where the other two Guardians had been fighting the Gate Lord. The Vex began closing in, the other two Guardians turning to hold them off while Kyra began shooting at the Gate Lord. She nailed it in the eye, causing it to screech and stomp at the ground a few times for good measure.

The other Guardians moved closer to the duo, entering their communications frequency. “Hey! The exo with the sniper rifle!” Came a female voice from the comms. “Get to the top of that structure up there!” The Hunter gestured to the large stone complex to the side of the gate, where no Vex seemed to venture. “You can snipe the Gate Lord from up there while we take it from down here. Me and the other Hunter you’re with can try and draw it’s fire while this Titan moron to uses his Light attack.”  
“Hey-!” Said Titan protested, looking at her briefly before continuing to fire on the advancing Vex.

“Roger that.” Kyra replied. “Cyra? You heard the Hunter. To the complex!”

Cyra didn’t protest, dashing off from cover to cover until she finally made it to the structure. From there, she climbed up the stone until she finally pulled herself onto the top of it. She gave the others a wave before pulling out her sniper rifle, kneeling as she aimed down her sights.

“Okay, we’ve got that covered. You and me are gonna head over there on three. Got it?” The Hunter told Kyra.

“Yeah, I got it.” Kyra followed her gaze to a cluster of rocks, angled so that they could take shots at the Gate Lord yet still avoid the Vex.

The Hunter counted down on her fingers, rushing off towards the rocks on three with Kyra in suit. “DO IT NOW, CAT!” She shouted at the Titan, who still lingered behind.

“Yeah, I know.” The Titan jumped into the air, leaping at the Gate Lord as he began to glow from his Light attack. A hammer-like weapon formed in his hands as he continued to rise, finally bringing it down with a vigorous swing at the hulking creature. It’s health, displayed on the Guardians’ monitors, was lowered substantially as it undertook massive damage from the attack. Moments after performing said attack, the Tian dashed off to fire on it elsewhere.

“Nice one, Cat!” The Hunter congratulated him.

“No problem.” The Titan replied. You could almost see the grin in his voice. “Hey Warlock! You still shooting up there?”

“Yeah!” Cyra told him, taking a shot at the Gate Lord as it turned her way. It’s health was dropping to dangerously low levels, its Vex forces growing more determined as their leader began to die.

“Just a little bit more!” Kyra informed them, putting her hand canon away and pulling out her rocket launcher. “Let me finish this off!”

“A few rockets should do it!” The Titan said gleefully, watching as Cyra carefully shot at it again.

Kyra didn’t need to be told twice, launching no less than three rockets one after the other, reloading as fast as she could. As the final rocket contacted the Gate Lord and exploded, it let out a shrill cry as it was reduced to a smouldering heap of parts, leaving nothing but a purple shockwave in its wake. The Vex took pause for a few moments before retreating, vanishing as quickly as they came. 

An eerie hush fell over the area as the Guardians began to leave their cover, tentatively approaching the remains of the Gate Lord. The Hunter kneeled beside it, rummaging through the heap until it pulled out a small, mechanical piece. “Alrighty. This should do it.” Her Ghost materialized it and she stood up, regarding the other Guardians as they approached her.

Cyra got there first, clicking her visor up so as to see them better. “So,” She said, looking the Hunter up and down. “Who are you?”

The Hunter raised an eyebrow from beneath her helmet. “I think the better question is, who are _you_?”


	4. f o u r

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyra and Kyra head out to find the signals with their newfound allies Asher and Cat, and instead discover something a bit more sinister.

_"There will always be paths to tread and methods to try. Roll with it."_

____  
_

 

Whatever remained of the Gate Lord smouldered in front of the four Guardians as they stood before each other, eyes pensively scanning one another as they wordlessly attempted to gauge how trustworthy they were.

“So,” Said the Hunter, placing a hand on her hip. “Who are you two?”

Kyra quickly holstered her hand canon, grinning smugly. “My name’s Kyra, rank 36 Hunter. This is Cy-”

“I can introduce myself,” Said Cyra, lifting up her visor. Unlike the other, organic beings, she didn’t require air and thus was able to survive in the Venus environment without an oxygen supply. Kyra threw up her hands apologetically, stepping back. “I’m Cyra, rank 25 Warlock. And you might be?”

“You could cut the tension between you two with a knife,” Joked the Titan, causing the Hunter to stare him down. He merely grinned, stepping forward. “Hey! Name’s Cataclys. Rank... Gah, what is it now? 34? 35?”

“34ish,” The Hunter told him. “Nearly 35ish.”

He nodded. “Yeah, around that. Anyway, I go by Cat, but either’s fine. I don’t really care.” Kyra imagined he was flashing a grin beneath his visor.

“Which would make me Asher.” The Hunter informed them. “Same rank as him. We pretty much go everywhere together.”  
“Somewhat like partners in crime,” Said Cat.

“Yeah. Somewhat.” Asher agreed.

“We’re kinda like that,” Said Kyra, giving Cyra a playful punch on the shoulder. “I drag her along on my high level quests and she complains ‘cause she doesn’t wanna rank up.”

“Th-that is _not_ the case!” Insisted Cyra. “She’s just a jerk.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that,” Snickered Kyra, causing Cyra to roll her eyes.

Asher shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Anyway, what were you two doing here? You just sorta leapt into the fray. What brings you to Venus?”

“Secret mission from the Vanguards,” Said Kyra, voice low.

Cyra sighed irritably. “We’re tracking a signal that resembles some that were sent out by Oryx’s armies before the Delta Fireteam brought him down.”

“Ooh, sounds interesting.” Said Cat excitedly. “Hey, you helped us take out that Gate Lord. Maybe we could help you out with this?”

“Yeah, sure.” Said Kyra. “By the way, why were you even summoning it in the first place? No one’s had to do that since the Awoken sent us on the wild goose chase to get into the Black Garden.”

Cat rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeeeeeeah, about that. We’re trying to apprehend this thief that stole our ship-”

“My ship,” Asher corrected.

“Yeah, it’s technically hers, but that’s not important. Radio- er, my Ghost tracked it here, and we already had some stuff we were getting for Banshee, so we decided to kill two Dregs with one stone.”

Kyra frowned. “And this stuff you needed for him so happened to come from a Gate Lord?”

“Tiny sniper rifle.”

“What?”

“Nevermind. Anyhow, that’s pretty much our story. Can we help?”

Cyra shrugged. “Hey, why not. The more the merrier, eh?”

Cat cheered and Asher gathered up her guns. “Well, what’re we waiting for?”

“Nothing,” Said Kyra, summoning her sparrow again and hopping onboard. “Let’s skedaddle. Like Ghost said- these things don’t stick around long. Let’s try and catch this broadcast while it’s still up and running.”

With a nod, the foursome took off across Campus 9, leaving nothing but dust in their wake. Ghost worked diligently to continue tracking the signal, as it had begun to weaken as the broadcast came to an end. Despite the difficulty, he managed to keep the arrow up in their HUD, giving direction to the Guardian in his care. And her friends, who he merely kept an eye on.

<Guardian?> His voice broke through the relative silence of the comms on a channel only Kyra could hear.

Kyra tuned her communicator to that channel as well, just so that the others wouldn’t listen in. “Yes, Ghost?”

<We’re nearing the closest I can reach to the transmission site, but it cuts off after just up ahead. It’s like it’s here, but not.>

“Start making sense.”

<I will once this does. Stand by, we’re almost there.>

The group pulled around a formation of rocks, screeching to a halt as the white arrow suddenly turned to a simple circle, signaling that they’d arrived. Normally, such an event would be no cause for concern. But unfortunately, the location that the broadcast led them to was far from conclusive. Worse yet, there seemed to be something in their way that even they couldn’t explain.

Mainly, a wall.

Kyra dismounted her sparrow, walking around with a puzzled expression on her face. “Uh, Ghost?”

<Yes, Guardian?>

“You are aware that this is in fact a stone wall that is in no way transmitting a signal of any kind, especially not from Oryx’s forces?”

<I told you it didn’t make sense.> He said, appearing more frustrated than confused. <The transmissions are coming from somewhere around here, but there’s... No way we can climb this and no way it’s coming from inside the rock. I’ve scanned it- it’s completely solid.>

Kyra frowned, putting a gloved hand on her hip as she surveyed the area that Ghost had taken them to. It wasn’t much to look at, really. Just a dead end in the labyrinthian formations of subic rock, ivy draped across all sides and an eerie silence blanketing the area. The other three pulled up behind her, all appearing equally perplexed.

“Mazes,” Asher muttered, “I hate mazes.”

“Soooooo... Where’s this signal you were talking about?” Asked Cat, leaning on the side of the wall. “This isn’t one of those killer-leads-idiots-to-some-secluded-spot-to-kill-them scenarios, is it?”

“Plausible.” Said Asher. “But the signal probably just cuts off here.”

“Right you are,” Murmured Kyra, thinking hard. “I have no idea how this happened.”

“So the quest was a bust?” Asked Cyra, almost disappointedly. She always hated showing up to the Vanguards empty-handed. “We have nothing to bring back to Zavala?”

<Not quite,> Said Kyra’s Ghost in the public channel. <I can still download as much of the broadcast possible, since we can’t pinpoint the origin. It’s not what they asked for, but it’s better than nothing.>

“Well,” Sighed Kyra. “Just do that and we’ll reconvene at the Tower. If you guys want to keep tagging along, I mean.” She added as an afterthought.

Asher glanced to Cat, who merely shrugged. “Why not? It’s always nice to have a Fireteam along.” Asher looked like she was about to protest, but didn’t say anything and just nodded with a huff.

Cyra ran a hand across the walls, fingers feeling the scratches that had torn crevices into its otherwise smooth surface. “Well, looks like the Fallen have been here recently. There must’ve been a struggle.”

“Must have,” Kyra agreed, eyes wandering to the bulletholes in the stone, directly above an abandoned rifle left by some Vandal. She found this a bit weird, since none of the Fallen are inclined to part with their weaponry at any time, but she brushed it off, assuming someone had been through here and shot them. Dead Fallen decompose rather quickly anyway- a byproduct of their fast-healing anatomy.

Ghost piped up. <Okay, Guardians, I’ve tapped into the stream and it’s downloading as we speak. I’ve given you all access so you can hear what I’m hearing.>

The broadcast began transmitting into Ghost’s channel, allowing the other Guardians to hear what was going on. Two voices were clearly audible- one quiet and heavy, each few words accompanied by a labored breath, its voice warbling and distant. The second was louder but appeared reserved, addressing the first only when it had stopped talking and only uttering either a few words or a long, run on sentence until the first cut it off. Their voices melted together in the static-laced broadcast, both speaking in the same screeching language that most of the Fallen communicated with. Occasionally, the first would utter what sounded like a word or two in the Guardians’ mother tongue, but quickly returned back once it realized its mistake.

“What are they saying?” Asked Cat, glancing to Asher.

She rolled her eyes, shrugging. “I dunno. Does it look like I speak Fallen?”

At once, the voices ceased, eerily quiet as the static intensified.

<Wait... Hold on.> Said Ghost, worriedly. <Nobody move or say anything.>

The foursome froze in place, as if it would make a difference.

<They’ve stopped talking.> Ghost stated, keeping his voice quiet as if in fear that the radio broadcast could hear him. <I think they’ve found us out. Wait- Yes, they’ve figured it out! They know we’re listening! We better run-> He was quickly cut off as the signal went dead, the frequency and quest marker vanishing from their visors. None of them spoke for a long while, until Cat decided to speak up.

“What was that?” He asked, appearing unworried by the weight of the situation.

<We managed to catch part of the transmission,> Ghost said, ignoring him as he ran several calculations in his head. <It isn’t much, but Ikora should be able to work with this.>

Kyra breathed. “Well. It looks like we’ve gotten all we can, so we should head back before we run into more weirdness. I don’t know how much I can take in one day.”

The others murmured their agreement and brought up their Ghosts. “Catch you all back at the Tower,” Cat said, disappearing as his ship zoomed by overhead. 

“I don’t have a-” Asher yelled, though Cat’s ship was already gone. Ghost snickered, and the Hunter’s eyes flicked in his direction. “I’m not all that surprised that thief left you when he took the ship.”

<I bet you’re not surprised I let him take it.> Ghost replied smugly.

Asher groaned, grabbing the hovering robot out of the air and stalking off towards where Cat’s ship had taken off from. <Hey! Ow!> Ghost protested, though he had little means of maneuverability to escape with. 

Eventually, the others managed to take off, leaving only Kyra, who had lingered behind to watch them leave.

<I assume you want me to summon the ship now?> Kyra’s asked knowingly.

“Read my mind,” She told him.

<Stand by, I’m bringing it around.>

“Standing by for beam-up.”

If Ghost had two eyes, he would have rolled them. <Come on.>

Without so much as another word, Kyra dematerialized into the muggy air, vanishing without a trace.

 


	5. f i v e

 

_ "If the Vex have secrets to offer, then I will learn them from the smoke of their ruin.” _

_ \--- _

The volume in the Vanguard Hall seemed to skyrocket the moment the foursome burst through the entryway. Anyone and everyone located within a hundred feet radius of the hall instantly swiveled to face the commotion, the gaggle of arguing Guardians attracting more attention than they might have wanted. Up at the front was Kyra, arguing loudly with Asher while Cat suppressed laughter, all the while Cyra had both her hands on her head as she desperately pretended that she wasn’t in the same Fireteam as these loonies.

Now that their helmets had been removed, the appearances of both Cat and Asher were visible. Asher was a shorter Hunter, taller only than Cyra who appeared to be in her early 20s. Her hair was short and red, one strand tucked delicately behind an ear. Her eyes seemed to be lined with a dark substance that could have been (ironically) ash, as pointed out by Cat. Cataclys stood taller than her by a good five inches, teal frame with orange accents matching his vivid personality. His bright green eyes flickered playfully, his sleek facial plated seemingly contorted into a permanent grin.

Zavala frowned at them as they entered, eyes silently condemning them as they approached. Kyra shushed the others, Ghost hovering irritatedly at her side. <…Progress, Guardian?> He asked, patiently.

“Yep!” Kyra confirmed as Ghost displayed the audio file. The Vanguards listened in as garbled speech poured out and into the room, giving everyone inside chills. They’d heard those voices too many times before.

“This definitely is in Fallen tongue,” Zavala noted, appearing less upset with them for creating a ruckus. “This will certainly need to be analyzed.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Ikora affirmed, turning to face them as the Warlock she was speaking with rushed off.

“I think we’re all skipping over something,” Cayde said, leaning on the table. “What’s it say? There are bits in normal people language.”

Ikora gave him a look. “Again, we will have to analyze it in order to-“

“But what does it sound like? Just preliminary guesses.” Cayde urged, receiving a sigh from Ikora.

“I caught ‘fall,’ I think.” Kyra piped up.

“Ooh.” Cayde grinned. “Spooky.”

The other two Vanguards stared him down before turning back to Cat, Asher, Cyra, and Kyra. “You’ve done well, Guardians. Thank you.” Zavala dismissed them. They resumed jovially talking amongst each other and began to walk out of the hall, the other Guardians who had been present during the conversation eyeing them with either envy of the Vanguards’ approval or distaste of their demeanor.

“Well, that was fun,” Said Asher. “But I think we should probably go and see what kind of damage the thief did to my ship.”

“Oh, yeah.” Cat said. “I almost forgot about that.”

Kyra nodded. “Alright. Hey, talk to us if you want to go on a strike or something later!” 

“Will do!” Said Asher, ushering Cat out of the hall.

Cyra and Kyra stood idle for awhile, watching them leave before setting out themselves. After only a few paces towards the stairwell, Kyra’s ghost halted in midair, widening his optic in simulated surprise. One second passed. Two. Just as the two stepped foot on the first step, a shout echoed through the hall.

<WAIT!>

Kyra was the first to turn, followed by nearly everyone else in the area. She raised an eyebrow. “What? What was so important that you couldn’tve told me on a private channel?”

Flustered, Ghost managed to spit out a reply. <After the signal went dead, I kept tracking the frequency to see if I could find any matches elsewhere.>

“And?” Urged Cyra, approaching him with her own Ghost dancing around her shoulders.

<I’ve found a match,> He replied, exasperated. <Two.>

Murmurs rippled through the hall. “Two matches?” Kyra said, frowning. “But-”

<I know, it doesn’t make sense!> Ghost exclaimed.

“Can you track them?” Asked Ikora from across the room, beckoning them over. The Guardians gathered around the table again.

<Yes,> Replied Ghost, voice strained. <Just give me a moment...>

The Guardians who had been milling about the area began to take interest in the events transpiring in the hall, and began to come closer. They peered over the duo’s shoulders, trying to catch a glimpse of exactly what the Vanguards were so interested in.

“Anything?” Asked Cayde. “We don’t really have all day. Well, I do. Sitting here. While you’re out there.”  
“Shush,” Said Ikora, flashing him a warning look.

Cayde frowned but didn’t argue; Zavala gave him a nod of assent.

<I’ve found the locations of the broadcasts,> Ghost reported, his voice carrying a frown. <One is located in a location much the same as the last, as the coordinates have hardly changed. The other, though, is broadcasting from the moon, near the entrance to the Temple of Crota.>

Ikora pursed her lips and nodded. “I’m going to need to run a few analysis, but-”

“What?! Are you kidding me?” Cayde burst in. “C’mon! Running tests isn’t gonna figure out what’s sending these things. We gotta send some Guardians in there!” He lowered his voice slyly. “Maybe even get Fireteam Delta onboard?”

“Yeah!” Kyra piped up. “We dunno how long these things are going to last, so we should get going while we can!”

“We could divide into two teams and storm the Temple of Crota!” Shouted one of the Hunters in the room, causing the rest of them to begin loudly voicing their ideas until the room was a huge jumble of Hunters talking to each other eagerly. Ikora and Zavala shared an irritated look, and the former raised a hand to silence them. The commotion ceased almost immediately.

“We don’t know enough at the time to risk an expedition,” Ikora told them, much to the Hunters’ disappointment. “We should gather more information before sending Guardians in there.”  
A chorus of ‘awwwws’ came from the Hunters, the loudest one being Cayde’s.

“I disagree.” Zavala interrupted, much to everyone’s surprise. “Cayde, for once, is correct in that the signal could disappear at any moment. Time is of the essence.”

Ikora frowned. “...I suppose.”

The cheers resumed until Zavala spoke again. “We will assemble one 12-man Fireteam, one that will scout the Moon location and another that will scout the Venus location. They will be composed of volunteers, along with whoever from Fireteam Delta chooses to aid us.”

“The four Guardians who originally found the signal should go along as well,” Cayde said, nodding at Kyra again. She grinned.

“Good idea,” Said Zavala, watching him cautiously. “All who wish to join the raid, see me once I deliver the news to the Speaker.” With that, Zavala briskly left the room.

After his exit, the Hall morphed into a hectic clamor of Guardians, talking excitedly amongst themselves and trailing after Zavala. Several Hunters rushed up to Cayde, loudly asking for details while some of the more reserved Warlocks clustered near Ikora, quietly asking for clarification.

Noticing Cyra’s discomfort at the sheer flood of Guardians in the Hall, Kyra tapped her shoulder. “Hey, we should get outta here ‘fore word gets around, alright?”

Cyra nodded, already a few steps ahead of her companion. “Yeah. I mean, we should probably get ready for the mission.”

Kyra’s brows furrowed. “Y’know, you don’t have to go if you don't want to.”

She shook her head. “No, I’m going. You’re the one that always says I have to rank up, right?” Cyra flashed an uncertain smile.

The Awoken opened her mouth, but didn’t say anything and instead just winked. “Alright. I’ll just have to keep an eye on you then.”

They both exited the Vanguard Hall, stepping into the crowded courtyard. “Zavala said he was headed to see the Speaker,” Cyra reminded her. “Which means we should probably head to the North Tower to find him.”

“Right-o,” Kyra said, fiddling with her gun absentmindedly.

“You’re gonna run into something,” Muttered the Exo.

“Nah, I know this place like the inside of my ship.” She replied, still not looking up.

“Not encouraging.”

Cyra rolled her eyes but guided them to the Speaker’s library nonetheless. Once there, they quickly realized that word must have traveled much faster than they had thought, because a crowd of no less than 300 Guardians had taken up the entire North Tower. Some of the regular citizens had also joined to listen to Zavala give the final announcement, though they were fewer in numbers and stayed near the back of the group (mostly out of fear due to the gigantic weapons the Guardians toted with them).

Kyra whistled. “Sheesh. That escalated quickly.”

“You can say that again,” Replied Cyra.

The Speaker seemed to be in a heated discussion with Zavala, highlighting his muffled words with hand gestures in his usual, modulated way. The Titan Vanguard stood facing him, only speaking every now and again in between the Speaker’s remarks. The conversation continued like this for awhile until the Speaker seemed to pause, glance down slightly, and finally give Zavala a nod of approval. The crowd began to clamor anxiously as Zavala stepped away from the platform and onto the stairs to give his announcement.

“Guardians!” He boomed, to which the crowd cheered. “We have recently recieved two transmissions from both Venus and the Moon which lead us to believe that Oryx’s forces are stirring again. It is up to us to scout the broadcast location of these signals and put an end to what could be the beginnings of a full-scale attack!

“To do this, we are assembling two Fireteams composed of 6 Guardians each. Now, before you begin volunteering, we have four Delta Team members already onboard as well as the original four Guardians that found the signal as well. This means that we only need 4 new volunteers.”

Murmurs drifted through the crowd at the very mention of the Delta Fireteam, fervently whispering to each other about the prospect of working with such revered heroes. Zavala noticed this immediately, and continued. “Before you begin to discuss this amongst yourselves, I’d like to point out that we know very little about these transmissions. Not only will this mission be dangerous, but you’ll be flying nearly blind. You are the eyes that the rest of us will use to see, and as such, you’ll be mostly on your own.”

The whispers quieted momentarily, worry flashing through the crowd.

“And this is why we are only assigning volunteers to the mission.” He concluded. “We have no intention of forcing those who are not ready and able into a situation like this. But if you believe yourself to be among the capable few, ready your weapons and stand up with us. Fireteam Delta should be arriving momentarily, so this recruiting should be carried out quickly so that we may set out before the transmissions cease.” He raised his hand, clenching it into a fist. “Let’s move, Guardians!”

The crowd let out a unanimous shout of triumph as they dispersed, automatically parting to allow Zavala to pass through them. Kyra turned to leave along with the flow of Guardians, but Cyra pulled her back as she realized that Zavala was coming towards them.

“Hey, what’s the b-” She began, getting cut off as Zavala stood in front of them.

Zavala cleared his throat. “Guardians. I apologize for putting you on the proverbial carving block, but I needed reason to reserve placing until I confirmed that you were coming along.”

“Nah, it’s okay.” Said Kyra. “We already decided that we were joining the scouting mission.”

“Good,” Said Zavala. “I’m glad to see that you’re volunteering; you seem to be the most knowledgeable about what’s going on. We were hoping that one of you would assist each team, just to provide an equal amount of information for both.”

They stood silent for a moment. Cyra looked like she was about to protest, but Kyra cut her off. “Okay. That sounds like a plan. How are you dividing Cat and Asher up?”

“Similarly,” He replied. “You found the transmission first, and they merely assisted if your Ghosts’ reports are correct. However, if you prefer to travel together, I will not stop you.”

Cyra looked to Kyra and reluctantly shook her head. “No, I think it’s a wise idea. I’ll assist wherever I am placed.”

“Glad to hear it, Guardian.” He said. “We’ll see you both in four hours. I suggest you prepare until then.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked off.

Kyra turned to her companion, who had been standing stiffly at her side. “Hey, did you mean what you said? I have no problem going on the same fireteam.”

“No, Zavala’s right,” She said, shrugging. “We’re more help separated.”

Hesitantly, Kyra nodded her head. “Yeah, s’pose so.” She grinned, nudging her shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, c’mon, you heard the Titan. We should round up Cat and Asher and get ready for this thing. If we get the choice, I got dibs on the Moon, ‘kay?”


	6. s i x

_ “A single word is etched onto the inside of the weapon’s casing: ‘Soon.’” _

\---

The boosters of two dozen ships flared to life, rumbling in the crisp air of the Tower evening. Two dozen Guardians stood below them, readying their weapons and adjusting their cloaks as they prepared for the rest of their Fireteammates. Fireteam Delta was due to arrive at any moment now, and even those who weren’t directly involved in the Strike were eagerly awaiting their arrival on the sidelines. Ghost hovered at the Guardians’ shoulders, exchanging data casually in their own unique form of chatting.

Kyra sat on the railing that bordered the edge of the Tower and prevented (or at least tried to prevent) the Hunters from jumping off simply because their Ghost could revive them. Kyra was among those Hunters, but right now she was too absent minded about the Strike to try anything. Something seemed off to her about this whole endeavor, but try as she might she couldn’t really place it. No matter how much she attempted to ignore it, no matter how many times she denied Cyra’s warnings, she couldn’t shake the feeling. She had a tendency to ignore warnings, but that didn’t mean she was stupid; she was a strategist and saw the world as one big game of chess with the catch being that you can ignore the rules and light the board on fire if you wanted to.

Her eyes scanned the group in front of her, searching for Cyra, Asher, or Cat amongst the faces in the crowd. The Guardians chattered excitedly, strapping grenades and knives to their armor as their words melted together to create one huge mass of white noise. Somewhere near the back of the group, Kyra managed to catch the ever-familiar spikes of Cyra’s attachments bobbed up and down above the sea of helmets. “Hey, Cyra!” She called, waving. The spikes that belonged to Cyra swiveled immediately to face her, maneuvering through the bodies until she managed to push through them and join her partner at the fence.

“Hey,” She said, clicking the visor of her helmet up. “A lot of people turned up to... Ah... See us off, huh?”

Kyra nodded with a grin, her own helmet lying discarded on the ground next to her. “Yeah. Delta’s coming, so that’s probably why a bunch of people showed.” 

As if on cue, a thunderous noise reverberated through the courtyard as several of the Fireteam Delta ships exited hyperspace and hovered over the loading bay. A cheer rose throughout the crowd as the Guardians within them materialized on the grassy surface. The first was a tough-looking Exo Titan with black shaded armor and a huge rocket launcher positioned across his back. His face was tough and unyielding, though there was a small grin playing at his features at the cheers. Two more appeared behind him - a Hunter and a Warlock with equally high-level armor and heavy weaponry. The Warlock was a thin and sculpted human, a smirk on his face as his wispy brown hair blew into his eyes in the torrential wind produced by his ship. The royal purple accents that flecked his ivory black armor matched his eyes, which glinted in the dying light of the day. The hunter beside him was an Exo with a clearly unamused expression, her pink optics glowing dimly inside of her black shell. Her armor was black as well - evidently a staple of the Fireteam. Behind them was the final volunteer from the team, her arms crossed and face stiff. Her immensely oversized machine gun thudded against her back as she leaned heavily on one leg, short blonde hair sticking up in places (most likely an aftereffect of being in a helmet all day).

They walked forward into the crowd, which parted instantaneously at their approach. The Vanguards left their positions near Banshee’s booth to meet them, Zavala addressing the Titan who appeared to be the leader of the group.

“Ah, Commander Zavala.” The Titan greeted, giving a nod and bowing slightly. “We have the four of us ready to join up with your assault.”

“Our pleasure, Logan.” Zavala replied, returning the gesture. “If you might come with me, we can get the rest of the team acquainted with each other.”

Logan nodded and motioned for the other three to follow him as he marched behind Zavala. They approached the jumble of Guardians that composed the Fireteam, Kyra dragging Cyra along with her so that they’d be there in time.

“These are your comrades in this mission,” Zavala said, gesturing to the group which had formed somewhat of a circle so that they could all properly see each other. “We have two designations that you will be assigned to, so it is best that we first introduce one another to the members.”

“This is the Venus team,” Zavala announced, gesturing the group that had gathered near Cyra. “The members are: Cataclys-R3X, Titan.” Cat gave a huge wave. “Cyra Tallis, Warlock.” Cyra offered a small smile and readjusted the position of the scout rifle on her back. “Logan Drex, Titan.” He gave a salute and fired a shot into the air. “Nova Prospekt, Hunter.” A grey and black exo remained mostly emotionless, merely nodding with a small smirk. “Andromeda Sabik, Warlock.” A human with medium-length rose hair did a fist pump. “And finally, Normandi Wren, Hunter.” The human hunter with a mohawk put his hands over his head and clapped several times.

Another round of applause and cheering went through the crowd as the Venus Team stood up straighter and offered waves. Cyra looked a bit off-put by the sudden attention, but seemed to calm as Kyra offered her a reassuring look and her thoughts caught up with her. Cat looked like he was having the time of his life, grinning from auditory receptor to auditory receptor with his gloved hands planted firmly on his hips.

Zavala raised a hand, quieting the noise. “And the second Fireteam, bound for the moon: Asher, Hunter.” Asher grinned, twirling her knife between her fingers. “Farrin Drina, Titan.” The Titan from Fireteam Delta kept her hands firmly crossed across her chest, nodding towards the crowd. “Kyra E’Chara, Hunter.” Kyra threw her fist in the air, mouthing a cheer. “Rotor Hemd,” Zavala continued. “Titan.” The shorter Titan gave a huge smile and waved in a friendly manner. “Tennebris Captum, Warlock.” A human with a partially-shaved mop of hair shifted to one side of their head promptly joined the applause, striking an airy pose. “Lance Warren, Warlock.” A taller, brown-haired Guardian gave a half grin, cracking his knuckles in front of him with a pompous glint in his violet eyes.

As the cheers began to die down, Zavala spoke again. “These are the Guardians who have volunteered for the expedition. They will be flying blind into unknown territory for the good of our City, with nothing but their us and their own determination to guide them. May the Traveller’s Light brighten their paths.”

While his words seemed to move the crowd, Kyra leaned towards Cyra and muttered something above the clamor of the others. “You reckon he practices these in front of the mirror every morning?”

Despite her worry, Cyra managed a muffled laugh. “Probably, knowing him.”

Kyra paused before replying, the Fireteams preparing to launch as their ships hovered idle over the abyss. “You ready?”

She nodded, watching. “Not to feed the cliché, but I suppose I’m as ready as I ever will be.”

“See you on the other side.” Kyra saluted, stepping back as her Ghost hovered dutifully beside her. She gave a salute, Ghost taking the gesture to mean that she was ready and dematerializing her, leaving nothing but fragmented particles lost to the wind. In a breath, she found herself seated in her cockpit, the familiar steering functions already in her hands. Glancing behind her to make sure that everyone else had followed suit, she activated her boosters and joined into the chorus of enginesong. The figures standing on the grass of the Tower gave a final wave goodbye as the two Fireteams as the sky erupted, the world outside Kyra’s windows morphing from the welcoming blue of the atmosphere into the cold void beyond.

\---

The doors to the Vanguard hall were closed before the ships even entered hyperspace. Despite the bustling commotion of the room itself, the Vanguards themselves were relatively hushed, frames rushing about the room in an effort to get the communications stabilized as they stood silently in their places (with the exception of Cayde, who busied himself flinging snide remarks at any Frame that happened closeby and singing into his earpiece whenever a Guardian reported that it was up and running). Ikora and Zavala, who had objectively made more progress towards anything productive, stood near each other at the far end of the table. The former was noticeably tense, glancing frequently at the nearby monitors and occasionally catching the eye of Eris, who had positioned herself (perhaps on purpose) in the more darkened corner of the room. Eris clutched her green orb to her chest, its seemingly heatless flames lapping at her gloves as she watched the goings-on of the room. She held a passive indifference about her, yet still maintaining an uncanny rigidity that set everyone else on edge.

Something, what might have been her eyes screamed, was very, very wrong.


	7. s e v e n

_ "The wise man knows his fate. The fool merely finds it.” _

_ \--- _

The Moon was cold.

Well, to be fair, all of space was, but this innate sense of biting chill that nipped at your heels as you trekked through the dangerously sharp mounds of moon dust that went flying behind your boots was somehow a sort of freezing that tore to your bones. Perhaps this was due in part to the fact that this cold had wound itself with the fear that swam across the Guardians’ faces, flitting across their features and burrowing itself into their eyes. Some were better at hiding it, but there was no denying the fact that Kyra and her Fireteammates were alone, afraid, and exceedingly cold.

Kyra wished her armor could be lined with wool. She’d always experienced the Moon’s nippiness on all of her excursions to this place - it was her favorite location to run patrols on - but during those times she had always busied herself with something to numb to chill. One rarely has time to comment on the temperature when Fallen are hot on your tail with particularly nasty weapons aimed at fairly important body parts, and after this pattern repeats for every visit, one tends to file it away and simply forget until the next time it becomes relevant. As the six Guardians trekked through the rigid lunar landscape, chunks of rock pinging pitifully off of their visors, Kyra recalled just how chilly it tended to be with nothing to shoot at. No Fallen or Taken had elected to show their faces yet, forcing them into a state of permanent disquiet as they waited for something,  _ anything, _ to appear.

But nothing came. Nothing but the screaming silence and the frigid cold to keep them company as they waited for an opponent that would never come.

Kyra had positioned herself near the back of the formation that the six of them had morphed themselves into. Her stomach in knots from the nervousness, she activated her comms seemingly just to pacify it. “Cayde?” She said, trying to tune to a private channel. Her Ghost caught on and attempted to help. “You guys there?”  
“Affirmative, Guardian.” Cayde assured, as he (along with Zavala) were in charge of the Moon Team’s contact. “You doing alright?”

“Fine,” She said, to which her Ghost stared her down. “Everyone’s just a bit on edge.”

“I can tell,” He replied in his usual nonchalant way. “You’re all moving at a snail’s pace. Something off down there? I- _We’re_ not picking up any signs of struggle. None of you guys’ve fired at anything?”  
“Nothing to fire at,” She told him, frowning to herself. “No Fallen or Taken anywhere to be seen. A few guns littered about the place is just about the extent of it.”

Cayde took pause, seemingly thinking. “Huh. Weird. I’ll let Rulebook over here know. Thanks for the update. Also, I can see where you are so this is a purely conversational question, but how close to the broadcast location are you?”

Kyra glanced to Ghost, who nodded and projected it onto her visor. “Around a half a mile’s walk. You sure we can’t use Sparrows?”

“Nah. I asked. Boss Man says it’s important that you go in on foot so you’re not taken by surprise and don’t miss anything important.”

“How many nicknames do you have for Zavala?”

“It’s an ongoing list. I’m thinking of giving it to him next Festival of the Lost at the gift exchange. You think it’s personal enough?”

“I see. For the sake of being able to claim noninvolvement, I’m not gonna comment.” The Guardian who had assumed the front of the formation - Warren, she thought his name was - paused, extending his hand backwards to halt the team. She lowered her voice. “Hold on - we’re coming up on something. Signing off.”

“Gotcha. Swapping to public channel.”

There was a crackle of static as Ghost severed the connection, and then the line went dead.

\---

Eris shifted nervously in the darkened corner of the Vanguard Hall. She had been standing there awhile, having slipped in with the crowd of Frames and positioned herself so as not to be noticed long enough to watch and perhaps intervene if this... Endeavor of theirs went as she suspected it would. She found herself gritting her teeth, watching them hurry about as if they had all the time in the universe to spend. This was a trait most people (and other sentient life forms besides them, for that matter) shared - the complete and utter dismissal of time when it  _ truly _ mattered only to fear it the moment it loomed over their shoulders. Her time in the Darkness had changed that perspective; she no longer feared time but watched it pass as more of an entity, warped by one’s own perception as much as opinion or anything else similarly trivial. Years seemed like an eternity to her in the pit, the Darkness eating away at her until it was all that was left and whispers clambering in and out of her head as if they had a right to be there. Her grip on the orb tightened. She had escaped that Hell (unlike the others, a voice whispered to her), so there was no need to bring those memories to the surface. It was behind her.

She refocused on the task at hand, watching Ikora idle at the table with the others. Eris had found solace - even friendship, perhaps - in her, the calculating ways of the Warlocks resonating with the raw survival instinct she had gathered from the years below. She’d been a Hunter before, that much she remembered, but in recent times she had most closely aligned herself to the Vanguard of their near opposite. The Hunters’ Vaunguard did little to pacify her worries, as she found herself repelled by his insouciant nature in the face of consequential matters. Despite all she had done to convince herself that the Pit had not warped her inside, she found herself fundamentally shifted - and no amount of self-persuasion would change that. Once again, she blinked (as much as she was able) a few times to clear her head (again, as much as she was capable). This mission set her on edge as much as it had everyone else, but for much different reasons.

The voices clamored with what she could only fathom was some notion of anticipation. They, whatever “they” were (she assumed them to be dismembered voices of either Crota or Oryx’s followers, hence their lack of activity upon their respective defeats, but she doubted she’d ever be sure), whispered among themselves in words even Eris sometimes couldn’t understand, their apparently eagerness increasing with every passing minute. It was all leading up to something, she knew it. Ikora locked eyes with her again, her face questioning and in some ways even accusatory. Eris assumed that Ikora was gauging whether she was being asked to converse or just being stared down. There was about a minute of tense avoiding of eye contact until Ikora gave a terse word to the closest Frame, which offered a nod in either compliance or agreement, and began to cross the room.

Eris automatically seemed to straighten as Ikora approached. “Do you want something?”

Direct. As usual. “The voices stir in the ashes of their Master,” Eris told her by way of explanation.

Ikora blinked. “Your meaning?”

Eris reminded herself that context needed to be supplied for proper comprehension. She was too used to conversations with only herself and the figures her mind formed out of the dark. “As the Guardians approach, as does another force. The voices whisper of something to come, their din growing louder with every step.”

Ikora looked as if she was about to question further, but held her tongue. Her eyes scanned Eris’s face in search of any indication as to the importance of this advice, but found little besides the usual gruff intensity. She waited and drew in an impatient breath before responding. “Do you think our Guardians are in danger?”

Eris took pause, trying to decide how best to reply. “I am unsure. I believe you should at the very least inform them of potential assault. Vigilance is of utmost importance. I recommend discussion with your fellows.”

Ikora nodded in understanding and started back towards the table, turning to address Eris again. “If you feel as if you have valuable insight, you may find us at the table.” She turned again and walked back. Eris said nothing in reply, but trailed behind anyway.

Ikora stood beside Zavala. “What did Eris want?” He asked distractedly.

She frowned, mostly to herself. “She believes that the Guardians may be walking into something.”

“They are,” Pointed out Cayde. “They’re walking into the broadcast origins.”

“She means an ambush,” Clarified Zavala slowly, raising an eyebrow. “Am I correct?”

Ikora gave a nod, reluctantly at first. “She claims the voices are getting worse as they approach.”

“So the ‘little voices’ sound like they’re plotting against us?” Cayde asked, cracking a sideways grin. Despite the levity of the comment, it was clear that he was somewhat beginning to mirror the others’ concern.

“In any case, the Guardians are almost there,” Zavala informed them. “There is little to be done at this point.”

“What if they are gonna get bushwhacked?” Cayde asked, trying to turn the conversation back around. “We’re just gonna send them in there?”

“There has been nothing to suggest a planned assault until now,” Zavala said, more firmly this time. “We proceed.”  
Ikora nodded and Eris stood idly at the side, Cayde glancing at her as she inched closer.

Zavala tapped his comms. “Moon Team, are we on approach?”

“Affirmative, Commander Zavala,” Replied the voice on the other end. It belonged to the Guardian Warren, who seemingly had put himself in charge. “We are approaching the apparent broadcast location, despite the fact that there hasn’t been much to suggest much of anything so far.” There was a hint of pompous ennui in his voice, forcing Zavala to blink a few times to prevent himself from commenting.

“Good luck, Guardian.” He replied as succinctly as possible.

Ikora took his silence to mean that it was her turn to check on the Venus team. She activated her comms, her Ghost monitoring the feed as she spoke. “Guardians? How is it down there?”

“Looking a bit barren, chief.” Said Cat from the other end. “Not much around here. Looks just about the same as the first time we came ‘round here. How are things on that end? How close are we?”

Ikora glanced to the monitor, assuming that he either didn’t think to bring it up himself or hoped to prolong the conversation to curb the isolation. “You’re very close. It should be just up ahead.”

“Got it. We’re all a bit jumpy down here, so I’m pretty sure the others’ll be glad to know we’re almost done.” There was a noise as a few Guardians on the other end began pulling out some of their larger guns, just in case. “We’re going around a bend now.”

Eris drew closer. “The voices are chanting now,” She informed her, a nervous edge to her voice. Ikora watched her face uncomfortably and returned to her comms. “We see it. Can you see anything?”

They were so  _ loud _ now, Eris thought, clutching the table to steady herself. They were murmuring in great numbers, their chorus growing in volume until it was pounding in her ears, booming through her head in a melodic symphony of chaos.

“Not really,” Cat replied, we’re in a small clearing. I don’t really remember being here from past missions, though.”

These were words, She realized. Words she recognized. Or at least some form of rhythmic warbling. She tried to remember what this particular collection of sounds meant in her native tongue, fighting to think over the bedlam.

“What do you mean?” Asked Ikora, somewhat worriedly. Cayde had turned his attention to she and Cat’s conversation, what would have been his brow furrowing.

“I mean it doesn’t really look like anyplace I’ve been before. Thought I knew this place inside and out, hah.” Cat gave a nervous chuckle.

Ever louder now. The clamorous din pounded in her mind, competing with her attempt at thought. She began to remember the word, hearing it among the followers of Oryx.

_ Ours...Ours...Ours...Ours...Ours...Ours...Ours... _

“Eris?” Are you alright?” Zavala was speaking, but it was distant against the internal tumult.

She looked up. “You need to get them out of there  _ now _ .”

_ Ours! Ours! Ours! Ours! Ours! Ours! Ours! _

“Cataclys? Cataclys, can you hear me?” Ikora’s voice was strained.

“I dunno. You’re sorta cutting out. Everything okay on that end?” He asked. Another muffled voice began talking to him somewhat urgently, drawing his attention elsewhere.

“What? What do you mean?” Zavala asked her. “What’s out there?”

“You heard the scary lady!” Cayde shouted. “We have to get them out!”

“Cayde, hush!”

_ OURS OURS OURS OURS OURS OURS OURS _

“Cataclys, we think you’re walking into a trap. You should try to get your team out of wherever you are.” Ikora instructed.

“But it says we’re right here,” He said, confused. “I think I can see the broadcast point.”

“Cataclys-!”

“It looks li-”

There was an inhuman scream from the other end, causing Ikora to reel back in shock. The other two Vanguards stared with horror at her comm and began yelling at their own teams into the mics. She resituated herself as quickly as possible, speaking again. “Cataclys, get out of there!”

_ OURSOURSOURSOURSOURSOURSOURS! _

There was no audible reply. The other end was a flurry of shouts and gunshots, the microphone apparently having been dropped. Ikora put a stunned hand to her mouth, Eris staring down at the table. Frames let out mechanized shrieks of fear as the dots indicating their location flickered and died. The scuffles continued until a crushing sound rang out, the communication device broken by something on the other end. A horrified silence endured throughout the hall, the voices in Eris’s head falling just as still.

Cayde and Zavala waited until Ikora removed the comm from her ear and let it drop to the table before speaking. “The Moon Team is on their way back. They haven’t reported anything wrong.” Zavala told her. “What happened on Venus?”

Ikora looked at him and drew in a shaky breath. “They were ambushed. Communications with the Fireteam leader were cut off and... We have lost all contact.” She coughed, a shudder passing through her body as she spoke into the hush of the room. “They’re gone. The Venus Team is missing.”


End file.
